


Final Chapter

by Karthur



Category: Suikoden I, Suikoden II, Suikoden III
Genre: Gen, Post Suikoden III, taking broad liberties with character histories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karthur/pseuds/Karthur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apple visits Shu to conduct an interview for her biography of Mathiu Silverberg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Chapter

I've heard it said that the last chapter of a book is always the hardest to write.

I'll have to agree with that statement. I began writing this biography nearly fifteen years ago and now as it reaches its ending, I feel as if some small part of me is waning along with it. Some might say since it's taking me so long that I'm not particularly dedicated to it but I feel the opposite. Despite the changes in my life, despite the wars, despite the challenge of collecting information on a man whose secrets tried to die with him, I have not given up.

And here I am, standing in the middle of the street and looking at the large house which dominates the town. I take a breath. It is time to take one last interview and put this biography to rest. Although I had to visit with many people of questionable moral turpitude and revisit some heartbreaking memories with others, this will definitely be the worst. I suppose that I am dreading it so much because the person I am about to speak to is someone I truly care about. Unfortunately, his relationship with the subject of my book did not end well.

Taking a few careful strides towards the mansion, I suddenly feel a twist in my stomach as if some force I cannot see is attempting to draw me back. Perhaps the subject of the book does not wish this interview to take place? Perhaps, there are some things that must remain secrets? Perhaps…I am just overly anxious to visit with an old friend? Putting these questions out of my mind, I fight onward, finally making it to the door where I pull the cord and wait. A long minute passes as the wind picks up and whips my brown hair as much as the ponytail I wear it in allows. Finally, a woman dressed in the clothes of a servant appears at the door. "Yes?" she asks as if my intrusion is cause for a personal affront.

"I'm here to see Shu," I reply.

With an even, skeptical look she asks, "Is _Master_ Shu expecting you?"

"Yes. I sent a letter. My name is Apple. Please tell him I am here."

With a snort, she invites me in to the foyer but gives me strict instructions to stay there. It is a warm room, despite the reception I just received. The walls are paneled in dark cherry and a single, tasseled lamp hangs from the ceiling. The shadows it casts on the dark walls produce intricate gossamers of curiosity but I did not have much time to appreciate them.

Long, confident footsteps approach me as Shu appears from within the maze of his house—I'm not even sure from which direction he came. He hasn't changed a bit. Still tall and handsome with long black hair loosely tied from causing him any difficulties, though I notice that there are a few strands of silver mixed in. With one hand casually tucked in his trouser pocket he gives me a smile. "So good to see you, Apple."

I smile back, offering him an embrace which he accepts. It is good to see that despite the years and disagreements, we are still friends.

He puts an arm around my shoulders as he leads me into his home. "Come in. I've been expecting you."

We walk together through a labyrinth of hallways lined with portraits, landscape paintings and the occasional map of some far off land. Finally, he stops at a door opulently decorated with gold leaf. Opening it he ushers me inside, saying, "My private office."

It is a small but comforting room. Bookshelves line the walls and large windows give light and glimpses of life at the street below. The furnishings are cozy and the fireplace welcoming. I silently guess that Shu does not do much entertaining in this room as I take a seat on the fine leather sofa that is situated across from his desk. The desk itself is extremely neat. No papers left out in the open, not a single thing out of order. I expect him to sit behind the huge desk, but he doesn't. Instead, he chooses to sit next to me on the couch.

"Mazille will bring us some tea and biscuits," he says with a smile.

"Thank you."

There is a long pause while he doesn't look at me, but finds something interesting along the wall to gaze at. Eventually he says, "It's been so long, Apple."

"Yes."

His voice is dry. "I heard you were married. Congratulations."

I shake my head. "No congratulations are in order. I divorced him only a year after our wedding."

"Your husband was Sheena, Lepant's son, right?"

I mutter, "For better or for worse."

"This discussion is upsetting you," he says gently. "We will not talk of it."

"It's all right. I made my mistake. I was young and foolish."

He grins at me. "One must first be young and foolish to become old and wise."

I laugh, but it seems empty. I still secretly wonder if I hadn't run off to see the world with the useless man that I chose to marry if something might have happened between Shu and I. We had been such good friends in our youth. But I cannot allow myself to dwell on that now. Although, the tone of his voice indicates to me that perhaps the same thoughts have occurred to him once or twice.

The derisive maid from before comes in and places a silver tray with tea and biscuits on the coffee table in front of us. Shu thanks her and then asks that we not be disturbed. She gives me a nasty look before leaving—one that causes Shu to laugh once she's gone.

"What?" I ask.

"Mazille tends to be over-protective of me. She's afraid that some woman is going to take me away from her."

I give him a teasing smile. "No prospects, then?"

"I believe I'm destined to remain a bachelor forever," he says with a wink as he pours the tea into our cups.

I lift my tea from the table, carefully balancing the fine china cup on the saucer such that they don't scuff. Giving a nod to his muse I decide to broach the subject of my visit. "My letter…"

"Your letter," he says as a slight frown crosses his face. "I don't know what you want me to say about Mathiu."

I put my cup down and say flatly, "I want the truth."

He seems suddenly uncomfortable, but the second he realizes that I notice this, his demeanor becomes instantly collected. "Who have you spoken to?"

I lift my traveling bag off the floor and into my lap. After digging around inside, I find my treasure—a notebook. Holding it out to him I say, "Everyone. You're the last one."

He takes the notebook from me, opens it gingerly and reads the names. "Flik, Viktor, Tir, Lepant, Kasim, Milich, Leon …" The list was a lot longer, but those were the ones that struck him enough to speak aloud.

"As I said, you're the missing piece."

"Ah…" he says as he drums his fingers on the notebook. "I'm sure there are more."

"I doubt it. I even visited the Grasslands and learned a bit, too. It seems that Master Mathiu enjoyed traveling up there."

"Were you involved in the recent war?"

I smile at him. "I was. With Caesar Silverberg."

"Old habits die hard," he says as he reaches for his tea. "Who is Caesar?"

"Master Mathiu's cousin, though neither knew the other."

"I see."

I take the notebook back from him and tuck it away in my bag. I never like to take notes during an interview, but rather write them down later. It always distracts me from the tales people tell.

He puts his tea back on the tray, the china singing a shrill note as it once again meets the silver. "What did you learn from all those people?"

He is stalling but I allow him this small victory. "Mostly things I already knew, but it is good to have sources to cite."

"Specifically," he says as he absently fidgets with the gold clasp that he wears in his long hair.

I counter him with a glare such that he knows I see right through his tactics. "From whom?"

Shu rises and puts another log on the fireplace. "Flik, for starters."

With a resigned sigh I reach for my notebook to appease him. Once I've found the correct page, I say, "Not much from him, actually. It would seem that Lady Odessa did not speak of her brother publicly, but he did tell me some stories that she'd told him about various things in her childhood."

"That will be included in your book?" He asks, prodding the embers of the fire with the poker and accidentally hitting an andiron.

"The ones that I believe are relevant, yes."

"What about Leon?" Shu asks, speaking the name as if he had just tasted sour milk.

"He gave very little information other than confirming that he had taken Master Mathiu and Lady Odessa in after their parents were killed by Barbarossa's enemies."

"Typical," he snorts as he returns to the sofa to sit beside me.

"Yes, well…he was not impressed that I was writing this book. I'm guessing he wanted all of Master Mathiu's secrets buried with him in Seika."

"That might not be such a bad idea," Shu says, pinching his nose and looking away from me. "Perhaps you should ask yourself what the Master would have wanted."

I try not to appear flustered, but I fail. "You don't think he'd…want this? I don't mean any disrespect by it. Quite the contrary, actually."

"I can't begin to guess what he'd want, Apple." He looks at me again, a hint of playful curiosity in his eyes. "What did Viktor say about him?"

I smile as I find the page with my notes from that interview. "He was rather talkative. One story he told me was how Lord McDohl went to fulfill Lady Odessa's final request and Master Mathiu sent him away."

"Is that all?"

"No, he also told me that one day at Toran Castle, he went looking for Master Mathiu and found him fishing in the lake. It struck him as odd, seeing the strategist for the army sitting on the dock with his feet in the water."

"He liked to fish," Shu says with a smile. "Don't you remember all of the meals he's cook for us after a good catch?"

"I remember, but as I said, I wanted other people's thoughts on him, too."

Shu charily selects a biscuit from the selection as if choosing a leader for a doomed company. "And what did Kasim say?"

"Only that Master Mathiu was a very reliable strategist and he was disappointed when the Master left the army."

"Did he tell you why Mathiu left?"

"I know why. I know what happened at Kalekka. I even attempted to confirm the story with Leon, but he refused to say anything about it."

"I cannot imagine how that man exists without any semblance of a conscience, but it does seem to run in his family. Fortunately, Mathiu grew one. Less can be said for your friend Caesar's brother, as I understand it."

"Yes…well…" I stammer. Albert was not one of the people I even considered interviewing. At the risk of sounding pathetic, he intimidates me in a most uncomfortable manner.

Shu shakes his head, warms my cup and fills his own. "Waging a war for a mere promotion? I'm sure Leon is proud of his grandson."

"I don't know…but you're changing the subject."

"What subject am I changing?"

I sip my tea and glare at him from over the edge of the cup. "I want to include your story—your thoughts—on Master Mathiu. Please stop avoiding that."  


* * *

There is only so far a man can run before he hits a wall and it would seem that is where I am at this very moment. The wall is not just in front of me, either. It began to surround me the moment Apple walked through the door to my home. She is a smart woman and my attempts at small talk are too easy for her to dodge.

She has just called me to the front lines and I have no choice but to face her. I ask her a simple question to which I already know the answer, just to jar her a bit. "You want to know why Mathiu expelled me." It falls from my lips as more of a statement than a query.

"Yes." She says firmly, meeting my eyes.

"And you are sure that you can handle all of the unpleasantness? I ask because, my dear Apple, it would seem that everyone else with whom you spoke only gave you information that casts our former Master in a pristine light."

She seems a little taken aback, but does her best not to let this show. "I am ready to hear the truth."

"And you won't fault me for speaking ill of the dead?"

She frowns hesitantly, the weight of her fears pulling at the corners of her unpainted lips. "No, I won't."

"Very well, then," I say before taking a long breath. The words come fast, matter-of-factly and without emotion. "Master Mathiu expelled me because I attempted to blackmail him. I believe he was rather impressed at the information I acquired, how I acquired it, and the entire scheme I had concocted to extort him." I give a glance to enjoy watching her try to hide her surprise before continuing. "But even though the student surpassed the teacher, he still removed me from his school."

She is silent for a long moment. She fiddles with her teacup, her delicate finger tracing the fragile handle as she looks for her words. "May I ask what it was that you discovered about him that he would go to such lengths to keep hidden?"

"You may, but I also may not tell you." I'm playing with her now, even though it is probably inappropriate to do so.

"Kalekka?" she asks with a hint of trepidation in her voice. "Is that it?"

"No, he was ashamed of that, of course, but it wasn't something that I could have used in such a grandiose scheme."

"You seem so proud of it. You seem so proud of the pain you caused him," she says bitterly.

"I was only proud of the fact that I brought the mighty Mathiu Silverberg to his knees. My methods were far from honorable, and I do regret them."

"I should hope so," she scolds me like a child.

I stand up and walk to the window in my study. The fallen leaves that litter the ground below are forming a blanket for the street. There is more to tell Apple, but my conscience fights me on it. Or rather, the ghost of the man I once called 'Master' is _still_ fighting me on it.

Of course she asks me the expected question. "What was it, Shu? What did you try to blackmail him with?"

Without turning around, nor taking my eyes off the pleasant diversion of golden leaves that are nearly glowing in the vibrant, yet sinking sun, I say simply, "Forgive me, Apple."

"Forgive you?"

"Forgive me for what I am to tell you." I feel as if Mathiu's ghost is now lingering outside my window, glaring at me and exacting some sort of morose curse. Those sunken, distraught features bend through the glass, reminding me to be gentle with the information I am about to impart.

"All right," she says tiredly as she walks over to me.

I reach for her hand and hold it as I again look outside. "What do you remember about your parents?"

She piques an annoyed brow at me. "Quit changing the subject, Shu."

"Answer me. It's important."

"They were killed when I was ten. We lived just outside of Seika and some bandits took their lives, though spared mine. I ran to the nearest village and when I got there, Master Mathiu took me in."

"Those were your adoptive parents. I mean your real parents. Your biological parents."

She squeezes my arm as if dragging me along like a petulant child. "Nothing, really. The people who raised me were my parents are far as I was concerned."

"And they never told you about your true parents?"

"No. Other than that they were dead."

I shake my head and look outside again. Whatever specter I had hoped to be there for guidance was gone. I silently curse him for that and for leaving this to me. After a moment, I turn to look at Apple and meet her dark, gentle eyes. "Master Mathiu was your father."

She drops my arm and backs away from me as if I had just struck her. Her voice is angry as she shouts at me. "Don't make up lies, Shu! It's not funny!"

I breathe in the space that she just occupied as the fire crackles over the strained emotions in the room. I knew she would react this way, though I cannot fault her for doing so. This is not easy news to receive, nor to give for that matter. I genuinely feel for her. I honestly do. I will do my utmost to offer her comfort and to relay the rest of the story—that she is bound to ask for—with dignity. "It's not a lie," I say calmly, walking closer to her and reaching for her arm. "You are his daughter."

"Impossible," she says as she sinks down onto the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest.

I sit down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "Do you want to hear the story? Perhaps then you'll know I'm not lying."

She nods ever so slightly but does not relax. Her body is tense and I can see the anxiety in her lips, her eyes, her hands, and even her throat as she fights to keep her emotions in check. That was always her weakness in battle. She'd let her heart lead her head.

With a tired sigh, I begin the tale that I spent months researching prior to my expulsion. "When Mathiu worked for Kasim Hazil, he was a very well respected man. He brought the empire many victories and this made him some what of a celebrity. As a young man, he had a complex of self-importance that bordered on arrogance.

"His accomplishments alone brought him a lot of attention, particularly attention from women. Mathiu, like any man, enjoyed this attention. One day he was visiting Antei, and after a few too many drinks went home with a local woman."

She scowls at me, but her voice was broken. "I can't believe that Master Mathiu would ever do anything like that."

I knew she would say something to that effect. She always did idolize him. Giving her a sympathetic smile, I deal a dose of reality to go with it. "He was a different man before we knew him, Apple."

"Continue," she says, taking her glasses off and setting them on the coffee table.

I am gentle with my words as I return to the story. "This woman was your mother. Her name was Bethany. When she realized she was pregnant she sent word to Mathiu. He sent her letters and money, but never visited Antei again.

"Bethany died soon after you were born, and her sister, Kimberly, took over care of you. Kimberly, who I'm sure you've met, was not the most honest woman in the world, and sought to exploit Mathiu." I look at the wood snapping in the fireplace and smirk. "Not to be outdone in the sport of tactics and manipulation by an illiterate seal forger, Mathiu arranged for your kidnapping and found a nice couple outside of Seika to care for you."

I notice that she is crying and I pull her close to me such that her head rests on my shoulder and a stray lock of my hair dangles in her face. She tries to draw away, but I refuse to let her. I place my handkerchief in her hand. "Are you all right?"

With her palm over her eyes, she sobs, the words catching against conflicting sentiments in her throat. "I just don't know how to feel. I just learned that I am the bastard child of the man I admire most."

Her words ring with such a despondent and guileless timbre that I reach for her shaking hands to steady them. "I know. I'm sure this is hard. Do you want to hear the rest?"

"Yes," she says through her persistent tears. "I have to."

I hold her tight against my chest as I finish the distressing tale. I hate to admit my weakness but causing harm to those I care for consumes me. And that is just what I am doing, though my conscience keeps justifying it in the sense that it is for her own good. "All right, then. When Kimberly found out that Mathiu had schemed against her, she was furious and demanded money. Mathiu paid her off, though every once and awhile she'd visit Seika and ask for more. That is how I met her and that is how I learned this story. I agreed to help her, but only because I felt that Mathiu was wrong in not telling you the truth."

"Why didn't he tell me?" She asks in a tiny, pitiful voice as fresh tears sneak out from the corners of her eyes.

I touch her chin and lift it to look in her eyes. She doesn't resist the small offering of consolation. "When I learned his reasons, they made sense and only prove that he loved you."

"Tell me," she begs as she reaches for my other hand. "Tell me."

I nod and close my eyes for a second, preparing the precise words in my mind. "Well, I went to see Mathiu and told him what I knew. He tried to deny it, but I showed him the evidence."

"Evidence?" she asks, but doesn't lift her head. "What evidence?"

I give her a tender touch of reassurance on the cheek. "I'll get there, I promise."

"All right, go on."

"Mathiu was livid. He accused me of prying into his personal business and for using my power to commit crimes against others. I reminded him that was exactly what he trained us to do—to exploit people and their weaknesses.

"He threw an inkwell at me. It was the first time—the only time—I'd seen him lose control. After a few haggard breaths of unadulterated rage, he calmed himself and told me that I needed to leave his school and never return. I questioned this, because I felt that he was being dishonest to you and to himself. I told him that you deserved the truth so that you could claim your birthright and that I thought he was despicable for keeping such things from you.

"That is when he became incredibly angry. It was the sort of anger that can only manifest itself as blind, silent rage. He glared at me—a look strong enough to chase trained soldiers from his sight—but I did not leave. He said, 'Shu, you have no conception of reality in regards to this situation.' Then, I asked him to enlighten me because I felt that he was just being a coward."

"And?" she asks as I take a moment to assemble my thoughts and catch my breath, my fingers absently knitting themselves in her hair. "And then?"

"Then he told me why he refused to tell you, and why I shouldn't. He told me, 'There are many people in this world who seek to harm my family. People who want to exploit us for our talents, our gifts, our money, whatever. I don't want Apple to have to deal with that. I don't want her to feel as I did. That this is the path that I must choose, just because I had this misfortune of being born into the House of Silverberg.'"

"I…wouldn't have minded the burden," she whispers. "I wouldn't have minded the risks."

Looking over her head, I see through the windows that night has fallen and draped the outside world in a shadow of itself. There is no moon, but my eyes seem to follow a small light drawing closer. Before I can become truly intrigued, it disappears in the distance yet oddly gives me a sense of reassurance. "But that wasn't all of it. He was also afraid you would run from him, knowing the truth. Knowing that for all those years, he pretended you were not his blood. He didn't want you to hate him for choices made in the folly of youth."

"Poor Master Mathiu," she says as she dries her eyes with my handkerchief. "I still wish he had told me. I would have never hated him. I just hope that…"

"That what?"

"That I haven't disappointed him."

I brush her hair from her face and meet her dark eyes. My words are benign, but my tone is firm. "You haven't. As I told you once, I know you inherited his heart. I know he saw that, because as much as I hate to admit it, I was jealous of you, Apple. You always had his attention."

She lifts her glasses off the table and sighs, tears still daubing her pink cheeks. "I…still don't know what to say other than I'm not sure I believe all of this."

"I swore to you it is true and now I'll offer you proof." I get up and walk to the desk. I use this room only for my own pleasure. I never conduct business in here. There are too many personal things I keep in the desk and in the room to share with those who are not close to my heart. The top drawer is the resting place for a precious token. I slip a key out of my sleeve and open it. Inside is the treasure—a gold ring with a seal engraved into it. The relief makes an "S" and the words _"aut vian inveniam aut faciam"_ are carved around it. Wordlessly, I walk back to the sofa and place it into her hand.

She begins to examine it, knowing full well what it is. "Where did you get this?" she asks in astonished disbelief.

"Kimberly gave it to me as proof and payment for my help. Mathiu gave it to Bethany as his promise to support her, and you. Thus, I suppose it is rightfully yours."

She slips it on, but it is far too big. Cut for a man's hand it looks clunky on her slender fingers.

"I'm afraid I don't remember what the words mean," I say. "Old languages were not my forte."

"I will either find a way or make one," she translates effortlessly. "It is the Silverberg family motto."

I smile at her. "Your family motto."

"No," she says with a firm shake of her head. "I am not one of them. I will not tell them this story."

"Leon already knows."

"Still," she whispers, her attention captivated by the ring.

There is a long, tired silence between us. There are more questions we have for each other, but the oil in my desk lamp is dwindling. "Can I offer you a room for the night, Apple?"

She nods as she gets to her feet. I can see through her eyes that she is still digesting all that I have told her. "That would be much appreciated."  


* * *

I couldn't sleep. Every time I'd try to shut my eyes, the words that Shu had spoken flooded my thoughts and forced me stay awake. And I did. I cried most of the night. I try to be a strong woman, I try to keep my emotions out of things like this, but I always fail miserably.

I sit up in the bed and reach for my glasses on the nightstand and then light the lamp there. It burns an eerie orange as I pull my legs to my chest and examine the ring I have placed on my necklace.

Looking at it under the oil-lamp light, I suddenly feel warmth even in the chilly room. Completeness might be a better word for it, but I am not sure. I do know one thing, though. I know where I must go in the morning. I know that my journey cannot end here with Shu.

With a new resolve to find repose, I take my glasses off and lie back down, but do not bother to extinguish the lamp. I want the small comfort it brings to the strange room and to my newfound history.

A few tepid hours pass and morning breaks. I dress, pack and head downstairs. Shu is already there, already impeccably dressed.

"Mazille is making us breakfast. Surely you'll enjoy my hospitality for another hour?"

I nod to him with a smile and we wait in a comfortable silence. It is surreal how two people can sit next to each other and not feel the need to speak a word.

As Mazille brings in coffee and muffins he says, "In a month it will be cold here. I usually travel to the Islands to do some trading and take advantage of their warm weather. You should come with me."

"I don't know. I have things to do."

"That will take you a month?"

"Perhaps."

He raises an elegant brow at me. "You have a plan."

"I do."

"Care to share it?"

"I am going to Seika. I want to visit Master Mathiu's grave, finish my book and re-open his school. I think that is what he would have wanted. It is the least I can do for him."

He gives me a slow, knowing, nod as he pours the coffee into our cups. "Perhaps I will go with you."

"Why would you do that?"

"Ah, you're not the only one who feels they owe him a debt of gratitude."

With an elated smile, I nod to him and then we eat.

As we finish the small meal, he raises his coffee mug to his lips and takes a sip. "By the by, you don't need to call him 'Master' any more."

I stir sugar into my second cup of coffee nervously. "I…don't really know how else to address him, Shu."

He leans over and kisses my cheek before whispering into my ear. "Try 'Father.' I know he would have liked to hear it from you at least once."


End file.
